


ex machina

by Valier



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hank Anderson is Bad at Feelings, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, The events of the game from Hank's POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 14:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15318003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valier/pseuds/Valier
Summary: "It was an understatement to say that Hank had not been impressed on that night in early November when an android had walked into his favourite bar, introduced itself as his new partner and then proceeded to tip his drink onto the counter, watching with amused eyes as the whiskey spilled over onto his pants. The whole situation sounded like a bad joke with an even shittier punchline."or,Hank learns, with some violent interludes, that maybe not all androids are so bad, and maybe one of them can find its way into his heart.





	ex machina

**Author's Note:**

> never thought after like 3 years it would be a gruff old detective and an android who would pull me back into fic writing but here we are!! i really wanted to try writing from hank's perspective since i feel like he has a lot going on inside his head that we don't get to see, and i wanted hank/connor so. this happened.
> 
> part 2 will be up soon, it was just getting disastrously long to be a one shot and i thought 2 chapters would be more readable! please enjoy and all feedback is welcome!!
> 
> editing to plug my new dbh twitter feel free to dm me if u wanna scream about the game!! @kassandralexios

It was an understatement to say that Hank had not been impressed on that seemingly uneventful night in early November when an android had walked into his favourite bar, introduced itself as his new partner and then proceeded to tip his drink onto the counter, watching with determined and amused eyes as the whiskey spilled over onto his pants when Hank had refused to leave with it to search the crime scene. The whole situation sounded like a bad joke with an even shittier punchline, and yet there Hank had been, living it. To add to his grievances, the fuckin’ thing wouldn’t even follow his orders when he told it to stay in his car, or to not touch anything when they arrived at the victim’s house - not that he expected anything less from an android manufactured by CyberLife for the sole purpose of investigating deviants with the DPD. Of course they’d have their own agendas for the android to fulfil despite what Hank told it, as much as the blasé insubordination pissed him off, and the mental image of the android shoving its fingers, caked in dried blood, into its mouth made him shudder. Admittedly though, and not that he would ever admit to it out loud, the android was still pretty impressive. Its analyzing capabilities and reconstruction mechanics would no doubt put the entire force out of their jobs if the model was ever mass produced, but had it not been there, Hank had no doubt that they wouldn’t have caught the deviant, still cowering in the attic. He also had no doubt that the deviant would have self destructed and they wouldn’t have gotten a single word for a statement had it not stepped in during the interrogation, extracting the information they needed and seeing it safely back to its cell. So yeah, maybe it hadn’t been all that bad to work with the android for one case which was now successfully closed less than 4 hours after it had been opened. As Hank collapsed in his bed at 4am, Sumo settling uncomfortably across his legs like a hot, fluffy paperweight (not that he had the heart to move him), he decided he could overlook the strangeness of both the night and the company it had brought him. The android was a prototype who he had been unlucky enough to get saddled with it on its first outing, but the case was solved, it had proved it worked and now he could sleep easy knowing he’d never have to see it, or its smug little face, ever again.

In hindsight, he wondered if that thought had been the final nail in his coffin, and made whatever higher powers were out there decide he deserved to have his relieved arrogance punished. If he’d been unimpressed by their first meeting the night before, the only way to describe the feeling shocking through him when he walked into the station the next day to find the RK800 waiting by his desk was the equivalent to his stomach turning to rock and dropping to the floor. He froze in his steps next to Chris’ desk, still out of the android’s line of sight as it analysed his own desk. He watched its eyebrows lightly furrow as it picked up his headphones, and jump lightly at the heavy metal that blasted from them when it pressed play, quickly putting them back down and looking around as if panicked it had been spotted embarrassing itself. Hank huffed in disbelief and shook his head at how human the moment had looked, turning to Miller who was busy scrolling through files on his computer. He cleared his throat to get his attention, before turning his gaze back to the android.

“So, uh, what’s that thing still doing here?” Chris turned to look at Hank, following his eyes. “They still need us to do something for the Ortiz case?”

Chris’ lips quirked into a smile and he shook his head lightly, “It came in here asking for you so I showed it where your desk was. Said something about being assigned here permanently as your partner.”

Hank sputtered, “What?”

Chris grinned, doing his best to hide it but failing. Hank glared at him, no real heat in his gaze towards the younger officer, but his mind was racing. Partners? _Permanently?_ Surely whoever had arranged this was kidding. His unbridled hatred of androids was common knowledge in the precinct, and Hank had found it unbelievable enough that he’d even been saddled with the thing the night before. But now the thought of working with it long-term loomed over him like the storms which trashed the city throughout winter. Christ, he’d woken up too early and hadn’t had enough alcohol or coffee to be dealing with this shit right now.

“You should go talk to your new _partner_ ,“ Chris teased, nudging him in the direction of his desk. “It’s been here nearly an hour already, I think you’ve kept it waiting long enough. Seemed real eager to see you again.”

Hank shuddered at the thought and waved him off with a “yeah, alright,” gritting his teeth and starting the walk to his desk. Looking around, he saw that the android had wandered off while he’d been talking to Chris, heading towards the break room. Sighing again and mentally steeling himself, he grabbed the empty mug on his desk and headed over too. If he had to do this, may as well get some coffee down him before he could be too unpleasant to his new partner and make it awkward for both of them.  
As he approached the kitchen, he heard the android’s distinctive voice, sentences curt yet polite, with a slight naïvete behind it that Hank had noticed came out when it tried to make personal conversation with humans. The second voice was what made him hang back, stopping dead in his tracks for the second time that morning as Gavin Reed responded to the android.

“Bring me a coffee, dipshit. Come on, get a move on!”

Hank tsked, raking his hand through his hair. Gavin was probably the only other officer in the DPD with as much of a reputation for disliking androids as himself. He’d already caused several issues in the short year and a half he’d worked for the department, roughing up the standard service androids that worked in the station when he felt they were being short with him. For the life of him, Hank couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t been fired yet, but maybe that was just the mutual hatred they felt for each other speaking. He heard the dull sound of what was probably Gavin shoving the RK800 and decided he should probably intervene before his new partner was added to the list of casualties.  
As he stepped forward, ready to raise his voice, he instead heard the android speaking up.

“I’m sorry, but I _only_ take orders from Lieutenant Anderson.”

Well. That had definitely sorted out whether they had really been assigned as partners or not. _Only_ from him, huh? Hank snorted, thinking back to last night and all the times the android had willfully ignored him. They’d see about that.

“Oh…” Gavin chuckled with no humour behind it, “Oh, I see…”

Hank and the female officer sitting with Gavin both winced as suddenly his fist slammed into the android’s stomach. It grunted, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as it sank to its knees, hand covering the hit and LED on its temple flaring between red and yellow. Gavin crouched next to it, placing his hand firmly on its shoulder as he said quietly, “When a human gives you an order, you _obey_.”

The android looked up at him, eyes narrowed as its LED settled on a flat yellow. It said nothing as Gavin hissed, “Stay outta my way, or next time you won’t get off so easy,” and shoved him as he stood up and stalked out of the break room. He flashed a malicious smile to Hank as he passed by.

“Fuckin’ asshole,” he grumbled, walking into the break room and beelining around the android to the coffee machine, shoving his mug underneath it. The RK800 was already back on its feet, smoothing its jacket and tie, when its eyes landed on Hank.

“Lieutenant Anderson, good morning!” it said, as chipper as if it hadn’t just been punched in the gut, “I was just exploring the station while waiting for you to arrive. I was told not to expect you so early.”

Hank rolled his eyes lightly, “And I wasn’t told to expect you were being assigned to me permanently, but here we are.”

He probably didn’t hide his accompanying scowl as well as he could have, and watched over the brim of his steaming mug as the android’s features tightened. He watched its LED circling yellow for a few seconds, before the android continued.

“I fear we may not have gotten off on the right foot last night, lieutenant. Please allow me to apologise for my behaviour in the bar,” to its credit, Hank did feel pretty compelled to believe that it meant it. CyberLife did a damn good job programming it with the most sincere puppy eyes he’d ever seen - it could probably even beat Sumo on that front. “I am very much looking forward to working with you as your partner.”

Hank swallowed his coffee slowly, not entirely sure how to reply. More than anything he wanted to storm into Fowler’s office and cuss him out for the whole arrangement when he should’ve known better than anyone why Hank had such a problem with androids. He settled on nodding at it, adding a light “Yeah, yeah, fuckin’ whatever, just _never_ do it again,” which left the android positively beaming. At the sight of the smile, Hank felt a ripple of warmth pass through him, and a small part of his head realised that yeah, he actually did forgive the android. It passed as quickly as it came, Hank diving straight back into his coffee after the realisation of how stupid his thoughts were. Of course he didn’t fuckin’ forgive it. Of course he wasn’t going to enjoy being partnered with an android, no matter how human-like and advanced it was.

The android, to its credit, seemed to notice Hank had nothing more to say to it and moved the conversation along before the silence between them became deafening.  
“Shall we go to Captain Fowler’s office? I was told to report there once you arrived.”

Hank, with his mouth full of coffee, made a grunt of approval, and turned to put his mug on the counter as the android made to leave the break room. It was at this point Hank realised that in his stupor from the night before, he’d managed to forget something pretty important if he wanted to work even slightly well with his new partner.  
“Uh, hey,” he bumbled, flushing slightly at how inelegant he sounded as the android turned to face him, “What did you say your name was again? So much happened last night, I, uh… forgot it.”

Rather than looking angry or offended like Hank expected, instead the corners of the android’s lips quirked in a small smile.

“It’s quite alright, lieutenant,” it said, soft brown eyes gazing at him with amusement, “My name is Connor.”

\--

By the time they had both talked to Fowler, which had involved a lot of shouting, Hank getting unreasonably angry and Connor standing behind him silently watching the detective self-destruct over their partner assignment, Hank was pretty sure whatever awkwardness he’d hoped to avoid with the android was firmly placed between them. Despite this, the android had remained undeterred, apologising for any “inconveniences” his presence caused Hank and then attempting to make light conversation while they worked. Hank could tell all its questions were stemming from what it had found at his desk but was slightly endeared by the effort anyway. Connor was surprisingly pleasant when it wasn’t disobeying orders or making quips like an asshole. Not that he’d tell the android that. He was still overwhelmingly pissed at Fowler and knowing the thing was now going to follow him everywhere he went was not a reassuring thought.

It didn’t surprise him to learn the android could scan the deviancy case files far quicker than Hank could hope to read them, not that he’d really been paying much attention to doing his work anyway when he was still tired, in one of his worst moods for a while and had the beginnings of a migraine sparking in his head. The android was pushy, insistent that they get to work when all Hank wanted to do was go home, finish a bottle of whiskey and climb into bed. He turned away and picked up his tablet, trying to ignore it when it came round to his desk. It’s smooth, calm voice was beginning to piss him off. This thing really thought it understood the depth of his hatred of androids and that if it was cordial enough with Hank, made enough small talk as though it actually cared to get to know him, that they would work together nicely?

Hank realised he’d been lost in his thoughts, brought back to reality by the sudden presence of the android in his personal space, leaning over his desk, face near his ear. Hank hadn’t given too much thought as to what an android would be like up close. He’d thought they’d be cold, like the machines they were, yet he could feel a gentle heat radiating from Connor as though it had its own body temperature. The clean scent of pine wood surrounded him, pleasant and not overbearing.

“I didn’t come here to wait until you feel like working, lieutenant.”

He really fucking hated androids. The whole impact of the previous night and the morning came down in full force with the damn android breathing down his neck, having the audacity to try and tell him what to do. When he came to his senses again a few seconds later, Connor was pressed against the wall next to his desk, Hank’s hands fisted in his collar. The android seemed startled, LED whirring red only a few inches from his face.

“Listen asshole, if it was up to me I’d throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it-”

“Lieutenant…”

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Chris approaching, his face alarmed.

“What do you want?” he snapped. Chris grimaced.

“We have new information on the AX400 that attacked the guy last night. It’s been sighted in the Ravendale district.”

Hank released Connor, turning tentatively to face the other officer.

“Thanks. I’ll… get on that right away.”

Without sparing a second glance at his partner, Hank began to walk off towards the front of the station. He didn’t mean to snap like that at Chris, he was a good man, but he was lucky he’d chosen then to interrupt or god knows what he’d have done to the android.

When he reached his car he got into the driver’s seat, sighing and rubbing his eyes. So much for a good working relationship with the android. Hank couldn’t place what pissed him off so much about it. Because it tried to be friendly, make small talk as though it cared? Because it assumed familiarity with him after such a short time, making bullshit suggestions on how he could improve his life despite knowing nothing about the shit Hank had been through? Because it seemed so human, so _normal_ when he was up close, that he could almost forget it wasn’t, knowing that if it was a real person Hank would have no reason to hate it as much as he did?

Hank groaned and pulled his hands through his hair again. He couldn’t sit and figure this all out now. He doubted he ever would fully understand, but especially not while the thing was headed towards his car. He debated driving off and leaving it to take a taxi, but when the android flashed him a small smile when he met its gaze, he couldn’t bring himself too. Connor was definitely an interesting one, and seemed determined to do its job regardless of whether it was going to get on well with Hank or not. He supposed he could respect a dedication like that, since if the roles were reversed Hank would’ve already given up trying to work with his own stubborn ass. At the very least, the next few days were sure to be more interesting that his work normally was.

\--

After the day he’d had, pulling up to the Chicken Feed felt like coming home, despite the fact it was only 3 in the afternoon. It had been a long day, searching for the deviant AX400 and the child it had taken, and in the end they had nothing to show for it as both had done the impossible and escaped unharmed across one of the busiest highways in Detroit. Thick, dark clouds had rolled in over the course of the afternoon, making it feel more like it was the middle of the night, and the rain began to pour just as Hank got out of his car. He said nothing to Connor in the passenger seat, knowing well enough by now that it’d follow him anyway, despite impressing him during the chase by not following the deviant onto the road when Hank had told it not to. The telltale sound of the car door opening and closing confirmed his thoughts as he crossed the street.

He ordered his usual, and managed to get roped into placing another bet with Pedro while he waited, which he was pretty sure he’d regret later. All the time, he was conscious of Connor standing a few feet behind him, obvious enough that they were together yet enough space between them to give Hank the illusion of privacy.

“The plastic with you?” Gary asked, his eyes shifting between the burger he was preparing and the android, one eyebrow raised skeptically. Hank sighed.

“Only temporary. Not my choice.”

Gary gave a low whistle and turned his back to him, focusing on filling his drink. Behind him, he heard the android take a few small steps forward, and he turned the look at it. Its eyes were narrowed and still, shifting slowly across the van, in the way Hank noticed it did when it was analysing something. Of course the fuckin’ thing was scanning where he chose to eat, he huffed, not in the mood for the lecture about eating healthily that would probably follow.

“Christ, what is your problem? Y’know, you don’t have to follow me around like a fuckin’ poodle.” he snapped. Connor’s concentration was broken and its eyes shifted to Hank, looking slightly startled.

“Lieutenant?”

“Why can’t you just do what you’re told for once? Didn’t ask you to follow me out here…”

He could see Gary’s movements slowing, clearly listening in and had no real desire to have this conversation where they could be heard. The android was silent for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry for my behaviour at the station this morning. I didn’t mean to be unpleasant.” it tilted its head slightly, lips curving into a small smile. “This is the second time in twenty-four hours that I’m apologising for making things uncomfortable between us. I hope this time will be the last.”

Not able to help himself, Hank cracked a matching grin and laughed quietly. They both knew this would _not_ be the last time Connor would piss him off and have to apologise - in fact he felt whatever weird relationship this partnership doomed them to have was probably going to be a rocky one consisting of lots of arguments, passive aggressiveness and apologies.

The way the android looked at him, its features soft and somewhat teasing, made Hank feel as though he should also be apologising, made him feel like Connor was waiting for one. Hank would admit his behaviour hadn’t been great and that he’d definitely helped to cause most of the awkwardness between them. However the thought of apologising to Connor - to an android - didn’t sit right with him. This thing didn’t have feelings. It was programmed to maintain a working relationship with humans, to not take all the bullshit CyberLife clearly anticipated the police force would throw its way. It didn’t need an apology, and Hank wasn’t going to give it one.

“Heh, you’ve even got a brown-nosing apology program!” Hank chuckled, shaking his head lightly. “CyberLife really did set you up for everything, didn’t they?”

He took his food from the counter, passing a thanks to Gary as he walked over to a sheltered table.

“Hey, don’t leave this thing here! It’s bad for business.” Hank laughed quietly at Gary’s protesting.

“Don’t worry, damn thing follows me everywhere I go,” not looking up, he dove straight into eating his burger. God, he needed to remember to not skip breakfast more often. A few seconds later, a shadow fell over the table, Connor standing opposite him, as Hank knew he would. “See?”

He heard Gary scowl and could imagine the accompanying look on his face all too well.

Looking over at the android, Hank realised this was probably the first time he was getting a good look at it. For once they were both standing still, close together and the street lights provided soft lighting illuminating its features. 

As much as Hank disliked androids, he still had a perfectly good pair of eyes and had to admit that CyberLife knew how to make them attractive. Connor was a fucking good looking android. Its features were strikingly plain, in a way that if it didn’t have an LED stuck to its temple, Hank would believe it was simply a normal young man; its hair wasn’t black like he had thought, but actually a deep brown, the light bringing out the tints in the colour; and most noticeably to him, those hazel eyes, at once both sharp and dangerous as they could be gentle and persuasive.

Looking at Connor in this light, Hank felt 30 years younger, taken back to a time when he was happier and carefree, not even enrolled in the police academy yet. He could remember the friends he had back then, going out every night just to find something fun to do, whether that was bar hop until morning or sit in one of the empty parks, gazing at the city lights and talking. The android’s appearance tugged at his memories, its dark hair, dark eyes and devilish smile reminding him of guys he’d passed nights with, of club bathrooms and dark alleys, pressing or being pressed, the warmth of skin on skin, always lured in by those same fucking features he couldn’t help but fall for.  
Locking eyes with Connor, Hank shook himself out of his past. God, how long had he been standing there lost in thought? He was the one who was supposed to find his android partner creepy, not the other way round because he zoned out while staring straight at it. Connor looked at him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity and Hank flustered slightly, feeling like a caught child. It cleared its throat, and Hank scrambled to think of an excuse before it could ask.

“Would you like to review the information we have about deviants, lieutenant?”

Hank stopped short of speaking. Not the question he’d anticipated, but if Connor wanted to get to work instead of making him embarrass himself, then he could indulge that.  
“You read my mind.” he said, exaggerating his arms as an invitation for the android to speak.

Connor nodded lightly and explained as Hank continued to eat. Every word the android said went right over his head, the detective too tired and too stupid to understand the scientific terms. Something about mutations and emulating emotions that Hank wasn’t in the mood to figure out for himself.

“Woah, woah,” he stopped him, raising an arm to clap the android on the shoulder. “In English, please.”

“... they don’t really _feel_ emotions, they just get overwhelmed by irrational instructions, which leads to unpredictable behaviour.”

Hank sipped his drink as he took it in. He was practically the poster child of how overwhelming emotions could fuck up just about everything in your life, including yourself. When it was put that way, he felt like he could almost understand the deviants. They were made to be perfect replicas of humans, without everything messy about the real models, but it seemed even they were susceptible to the most human of downfalls.

“Emotions always fuck everything up, don’t they?” he felt Connor’s eyes on him as he looked off into the distance. “Maybe androids aren’t as different from us as we thought.”  
When he turned back, Connor was looking at him with an unreadable expression, like it was trying to piece Hank together but still didn’t have all the pieces it needed to understand him. Hank was happy to keep it that way. He didn’t want to share his life story with some cocky android that would probably be taken away and decommissioned in a few weeks. Connor leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as it looked at Hank.

“Lieutenant, can I ask you a personal question?”

Hank said nothing, nodding as he drank more of his soda.

“Why do you hate androids so much?”

His mouth twisted, the sweet drink suddenly tasting sour. He knew it would ask eventually. It was curious, too curious for its own good, and Hank sure as fuck wasn’t ready to tell it anything.

“I have my reasons.”

Connor didn’t press the question, instead nodding and turning away, thinking to itself. It felt weird, having a personal conversation with an android like this, but much to his surprise, Hank found he did prefer it to the sombre silence which had filled most of their time together beforehand. He decided to try his own luck with getting some answers out of the android, since it clearly felt it had the right to ask him personal questions.

“So, you dealt with deviants before?”

Connor’s eyes flashed to him, looking pleasantly surprised at a question being returned to it. Its hands began fidgeting on top of the table and its eyes looked distant for a few seconds, as though it was remembering.

“A few months back… there was a deviant threatening to jump off a roof with a little girl. I managed to save her. You might have seen it on the news?”  
Hank had seen it on the news. The Phillips case had been the first high profile deviant case which had made its way to the media, multiple stations with live camera feeds streaming the hostage situation as best as they could from the roofs of nearby buildings or helicopters. Everyone who’d been the the station that night, including Hank, had been huddled around the TV monitors, thankful that they hadn’t been the ones asked to respond to the call. The sigh of relief that had flushed over the room when the deviant stood down was heaven sent, but only temporary as the ramifications of such a dangerous deviant being front page news for the next week had taken effect. Both the DPD and CyberLife had been flooded with concerned calls and hounded by journalists clamouring for reassurance and clarification on the threat deviants posed to society, now the public had finally seen how threatening they could be. That had been the case that probably lead CyberLife to send the android to work with the DPD, and Hank supposed it was fitting that the same android be sent to help in both situations.

“So, I guess you’ve done all your homework then?” Hank gazed innocuously at Connor. “Know everything there is to know about me?”

Connor smiled in return.

“You graduated top of your class. You made a name for yourself and became the youngest lieutenant in Detroit. I also know you’ve received several disciplinary warnings in recent years, and spend a lot of time in bars.” the corner of its lips quirked at those last few words, recalling the first hand experience it had of that from trying to find him last night.

Hank looked the android up and down, trying to find any indication of weariness or disgust in its features about being paired with formerly one of Detroit’s finest who’d fallen spectacularly from grace.

“So, what’s your conclusion? Washed up old man? Stupid, bitter alcoholic? Hot mess?” he leveled, genuinely curious to know how it thought of him.

“I think working with an officer with _personal issues_ is an added challenge, but adapting to human unpredictability _is_ one of my features.” it smirked. Hank rolled his eyes lightly, as the android added with a wink, “I would also say that _hot mess_ does seem to describe you perfectly, lieutenant.”

Hank would be glad later that at that exact moment, Connor would be sent a new deviant case, making its eyes flutter and LED glow, and taking its attention away from Hank as he just about choked on his soda. His cheeks flushed hot and he coughed quietly, trying to regain his composure again. So. The android detective was programmed to flirt as part of its _human unpredictability_ feature. Hank hated the way his heart rate had spiked under the attention, cursing himself for already having lost the battle over admitting his new partner was attractive. Still, it was only an android. It didn’t mean anything, and he wasn’t going to reciprocate. By the time Connor turned back to him to tell him about the new case, Hank had composed himself and the android mentioned nothing further about its comment, even as it still occupied Hank’s mind.

\--

It was cold, late and Hank just needed somewhere quiet to think. When they’d gotten back to the car after chasing the Traci’s, Connor had gone silent, its eyes losing the light behind them and its LED circling a vibrant blue. Hank knew by now that this meant it was submitting a report to CyberLife, or otherwise checking its own systems. Whether it was doing it out of necessity, or just to avoid talking to Hank about what they’d just seen in the two deviants which had left them both stunned, he wasn’t going to complain for the opportunity to think for himself.

He hadn’t really thought about where he was driving until he was parking at the play area next to Ambassador Bridge. Sparing a glance to Connor, who was still vacant, Hank got out of his car, grabbed a few beers from his emergency supply in the trunk and wandered over to the bench with the best view of the bridge and river.

It had been three years since Hank had last been here. The snowfall had started early that year, and Cole had begged him to go to the park so he could play in it. Back then, Hank had been a very different man, and took nearly no persuasion. They brought Sumo with them, laughed as he rolled in the snow and soaked his fur while Hank pushed Cole on the swings. They made a small snowman, using stones for eyes and a pinecone for a nose, Hank managing to snap a picture of Cole standing beside it before Sumo had came to investigate and pushed it over in his curiosity. They had a snowball fight, Cole managing to land a hit square in Hank’s face, leaving him spitting snow and his son on the ground in hysterics. Hank’s lips trembled into a weak smile at the memory. When they both got tired, Hank had gone to a nearby café and brought coffee and hot chocolate for them, and they sat on the bench where he sat now, warming up and watching the lights of the cityscape twinkle as the sun set behind them. Cole had rambled about how excited he was for a school trip to a museum that he was going on in a few weeks, and Hank had savoured the feeling of having his son in his arms, cuddling him closer into his side as the boy nodded off to sleep.

Less than a week later, his son was dead.

He climbed up onto the bench, not sparing a second glance at the play park, and sat down on the backrest, feet hunched on the seat. Opening a beer, he took a long drink from it, before looking out across the river, watching the lights on the buildings in the city, listening to the traffic on the bridge. He wasn’t sure what had drawn him back here after all this time, but the thought of sitting where he had such a fond memory of Cole was comforting after the chaos of the past few days.

He’d never been a fan of androids, having grown older alongside them ever since their first introduction to the world by Kamski. He remembered the foundation of CyberLife, when the first models for domestic use began to be mass produced, all the subsequent new models and upgrades which made them a more effective workforce than humans. The growing discontent among the unemployed public over their popularity versus the matching movement in intellectual circles questioning their intelligence and autonomy and whether they deserved to be recognised as intelligent life. Before the accident, Hank had been happy to keep his dislike to himself for the most part - they were good workers and they weren’t coming for his job yet, so hey, no problems there. But after the accident, after losing Cole, his world felt like it was falling apart and it was all because an android hadn’t been good enough. Part of him knew it was irrational, to blame the android who botched the operation over the human who couldn’t perform it in the first place because his red ice addiction had been more important to him than his job. There was just something… easier, about blaming the android. The human surgeon was exactly that: human. Humans weren’t perfect, they made mistakes and Hank would be a hypocrite to say otherwise given how much of a fucking mess he himself was. But the android was supposed to succeed where humans failed. They were engineered, built and programmed to be _perfect_. To be _better_ than humans and do what they couldn’t. How could he forgive something which had failed doing the task it was specifically designed to do, better than any human could hope to?

Part of him, deep down, told him that he blamed androids so much, focused all of his hatred on them, because the alternative was accepting that Cole had been too injured to survive even if the human surgeon had been available. That not even the best surgeons the hospital could provide could have saved him because the damage had already been irreparably done. Hank ignored these parts of him.

After that, he came to see androids as failures. Annoying. Perfectly imperfect. He couldn’t cope by taking his anger out on a single android, so it extended to all of them. He began to notice how superficial they were, how soulless, and it pissed him off. They didn’t care for humans, or for the jobs they did, couldn’t comprehend the suffering they caused when they couldn’t save his son.

That was how he drifted through life for three years. A metric fuckton of alcohol, a potentially lethal habit of playing with his gun, and shifting all blame onto the most open target. Not the best support system by any means, but it was all he had when the alternative was opening up to people. He hadn’t been strong enough to do that then, and he still wasn’t now. But after everything he’d seen and done over the past few days, he felt like his world view was changing. Everything he’d thought about androids suddenly felt… _wrong_.

He hadn’t thought they were capable of having a conscience, of caring for something or someone. But then those Traci’s they’d chased at the Eden Club had been so desperate, had clung so tightly to the other’s hands when Connor had cornered them with the gun. The blue haired Traci had tears glistening in her eyes when she’d described her hatred of working in the club, how the humans treated her and the other androids, her hands quivering until the other android had taken them in her own. _I just wanted to get back to the one I love, to be held in her arms and forget all about the humans_.

 _Love_. Pretty strong word for an android. Hank had never thought them capable of it, hell, humans had a hard enough time with it as it was, but when he looked at those two deviants, he’d never been more convinced of two people in love. They didn’t have to be physically close, didn’t have the opportunity to be in that situation, but the way they held onto each other, the fear in their eyes and voices at the thought of losing each other, that wasn’t something that came from code. Nothing that strong could be programmed.

He wondered what they were doing now. It had only been about an hour since they’d escaped - since he and Connor had let them escape, he reminded himself - but he wondered what they’d do. The patrol cops around the city wouldn’t be told to give up searching for them until the morning, when their trail would run completely cold as the city woke up and footprints could be lost under the morning commute, the crowds making it easier to evade security cameras. There were still many hours until the morning though, and in a city where the streets were usually deserted overnight, he hoped that they’d already made it to the residential outskirts, or found somewhere safe to hide. He truly hoped they managed to make better lives for themselves wherever they ended up.

He could hide the truth from Connor or himself that he was ultimately the one who’d made the call to let them get away. Connor didn’t use the gun on them, but Hank let them jump the fence and run without so much as yelling for them to stop.

Speaking of.

Connor was another mystery challenging everything Hank thought he knew. For one of the most advanced prototype’s ever created by CyberLife, Hank had noticed more than a fair share of problems with it. The RK800 was designed to be appealing to humans so it could integrate successfully into a workforce, complete with human quirks like its shitty coin tricks, all supposed to make it one of the most human-like models yet, while hiding the single-track mind programmed into it, betraying it as only a machine who would do anything to complete the mission it was given. Or that was how it was supposed to be, but everything about Connor told Hank otherwise.

Hank had assumed that when Connor searched his desk on its first day, it was only to collect information about him, that it could use to make small talk to make Hank more comfortable around it. He’d thought that was the case, until Connor began to break the silences of the journeys in the car to ask him about his interests. It asked Hank to play his favourite songs, said it wanted to try listening to music properly and trusted the lieutenant’s taste to be a good starting point. Although it was one of his favourite genres, Hank wouldn’t have said heavy metal was _that_ good as a musical starting point, but Connor seemed to enjoy it well enough. Hank spied it tapping its foot to the bass, nimble fingers flipping its quarter to the timing of the guitar. Connor had thanked him before they got out of the car, a smile adorning its face as it told Hank that it now understood a little better why humans enjoyed listening to music so much. Hank had scoffed and said it was no big deal, but still consciously picked up one of his favourite jazz CDs before leaving home the next morning, in case the android wanted to listen to more.

He also noticed the interest Connor took in Sumo. Again, he’d brushed off the android’s fond expression when saying it liked dogs, but the way it interacted with him made Hank question it. He’d only been to Hank’s place and met Sumo for the first time earlier tonight, sobering him up before dragging him to the Eden Club, but ever since Hank had mentioned his dog after Connor questioned the fur on his clothes, he damn near hadn’t shut up about it. Asked him how big he was, how old, if Hank had had him since he was a puppy. He even put the android out of its misery and showed it a picture of Sumo he had saved on his phone, after it became apparent that the android was keen to see him. And then tonight, once Hank had changed and wandered into his living room, he’d found the android sat on his couch, Sumo’s head in his lap as he stroked around the dog’s ears. Hank almost didn’t have the heart to interrupt him, and had just watched for a few seconds, the small, loving smile on the android’s face serene as its hands carded through the thick fur.

Hank even found himself questioning Connor’s very loyalty to the mission he had been assigned. On their first day together, it had apprehended Ortiz’s android without a second thought, yet every case afterwards it had failed. It had listened to Hank’s orders, allowing the deviant AX400 and little girl to run across the highway without following; it had been so close to catching the deviant they had chased across the rooftop plantations, keeping near perfect pace with it, and yet it had sacrificed apprehending it to pull Hank back onto the rooftop when the deviant had pushed him off, and then tonight, again making the choice of its own free will to lower the gun in the face of the Traci’s and allow them to escape.

The RK800 was supposed to be CyberLife’s perfect deviant hunter model, cool, calculated and merciless in pursuit of its goal, yet Connor was proof right in front of Hank’s eyes that it was far more than it was made to be. It was interested in human pastimes, found joy in the smallest parts of the world, and worst of all for its creators, was developing a conscience. Connor was looking at its missions and deciding for itself whether the steps it needed to take to fulfil it were worth it - Hank was pretty sure Connor didn’t seem to think so. Connor had started to put value into the lives of other androids, and most startling to him, value into Hank’s own life which he didn’t have for it himself.

Hank couldn’t believe that after all he had experienced he was starting to see the humanity in androids, accepting slowly that they weren’t necessarily the machines he had always been convinced they were. He was starting to see _Connor_ as a person. As a human. It became harder with every passing second to maintain the idea that he- _it_ was still a machine, and it fucked Hank up. How could he balance this new knowledge with what he had accepted for years as a coping mechanism, to deflect his anger onto?

He felt like admitting that he had been wrong, that androids did have an intelligence which made them human, would be an insult to Cole. Like accepting that the android which couldn’t save him was capable of caring, of emotions, and probably hurt even a fraction of the amount Hank did after losing him, was allowed to be imperfect just like the human surgeon had been, would be a betrayal to his son’s memory. Yet such a large part of him wanted to believe that after the events of the past few days.

He put the empty bottle down onto the bench and picked up another, uncapping and taking a large gulp of it. His head had been swimming all night after Connor had sobered him up, and he only wished he had something stronger than beer to wash away his mess of thoughts.

He had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Connor walking over to him until he heard the soft crunch of snow to his left. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face him yet.

“Nice view, huh?” he mumbled, following the android’s gaze to the cityscape in front of them. “I used to come here a lot, before…”

He trailed off. He still wasn’t ready to talk about this. Especially not with Connor.

“Can I ask you a personal question, lieutenant?”

Man, the fuckin’ thing really didn’t miss a beat.

“Do all androids ask so many _personal questions_ or is it just you?” he snapped. His bad mood and the alcohol were catching up with him fast but he couldn’t stop himself. He doubted Connor cared if Hank started getting short with him anyway.

The android’s brow crinkled slightly and its arms crossed in front of itself before it pressed on.

“There was a picture of a child on your kitchen table,” it said slowly, as though testing the waters for Hank’s reaction. “It was your son, wasn’t it?”

Hank’s stomach fell. He pulled his eyes away from Connor, resting his elbows on his knees and gazing down instead. He _really_ didn’t want to have this conversation now, but there was a determination behind Connor’s eyes that made Hank sure he wasn’t going to drop the subject. He exhaled slowly. Connor was bound to have found out eventually, anyway. Hank had been surprised he didn’t already know, given the walking encyclopedia he was the rest of the time.

“Yeah… his name was Cole.”

There was a silence between them, and Hank could practically hear the cogs turning in the android’s head as it thought.

“You said you used to come here a lot ‘before’,” Connor paused. “Before, what?”

Hank shook his head and raised the bottle to his lips.

“Before… before nothin’.”

He could hear the android walking, the snow crunching as it walked in front of him, towards the fence. It looked out across the river and was silent for a few moments before bursting out.

“We’re not making any progress on this investigation…” Connor said, irritation and confusion in its voice. “The deviants have nothing in common! They’re all different models, produced at different times in different places…”

“Well, there must be some link.” Hank was tired and at this point couldn’t really see straight, but he welcomed the change in topic. The case was much better than his personal issues.

“They all have an obsession with rA9. It’s almost like some kind of myth.” he paused to think. Hank understood the obsessive writing no better than Connor did. Their only lead was the cryptic yet devoted way in which it had been referred to by the deviants. “Maybe it’s something they invented that wasn’t part of their original program?”

Hank scoffed, “Androids believing in God…” that would definitely add to his confliction. Androids with feelings, making their own choices, and hey, now they’re religious too! “Fuck, what’s this world coming to?”

Connor turned to face him, arms still crossed and expression irritated.

“You seem preoccupied, lieutenant.” he quipped. “Is it something to do with what happened at the Eden Club?”

“Those two girls,” Hank shrugged. “They just wanted to be together. They really seemed… in love.”

Connor seemed to ease as Hank spoke. Its brow raised in soft surprise and its arms unfolded down by its sides. Hank wondered how much Connor could understood about his internal conflict over this. The girls had seemed so real and so human and it tore him up inside, while Connor was still a machine, as much as Hank suspected it could be more.  
“What about you, Connor?” he asked, stepping down from the bench and walking to Connor. “You look human, you sound human, but what are you _really?_ ”

The android lowered its eyes in thought, Hank moving closer. _Stop, Hank_ , he thought, _you’re going to do something you’ll regret_. But he couldn’t stop. His mind was a mess, the alcohol was only making it worse and Connor seemed like his only option for answers.

__

“I am whatever you want me to be, lieutenant,” it said, looking straight at him. “Your partner, someone to drink with, or just a machine.”

__

Hank’s temper worsened at the android’s answer, even as a small part of him found comfort in it not immediately identifying itself a machine. _Whatever you want me to be_. What Hank wanted it to be wasn’t good enough.

__

“No, Connor, what do you think _you_ are?” he emphasised, jabbing his finger into the android’s chest. “What I think doesn’t matter. What about _you?_ ”

__

Connor didn’t answer, eyes flitting about the ground as it processed the question. Hank could see it beginning to look distressed, like the deviant in the station had when Connor had interrogated it.

__

“You could’ve shot those two girls, but you didn’t!” he shoved the android hard by its shoulder, making it stumble back. When Connor looked back up at him, it’s eyes were dark with conflict and confusion. “Why didn’t you shoot?”

__

“I just decided not to,” it insisted, standing straight and looking Hank dead in the eyes. “That’s all.”

__

When he woke up the next morning, head ringing and stomach churning with one of the worst hangovers he’d had for a while, he’d remember this part of last night with clarity and spend most of the morning with his head in his hands, trying to understand why he had done it. Why drunk him was such a goddamn fuckin’ _moron_ , who may have ruined whatever relationship he’d been developing with Connor all to satisfy his own stupid curiosity and anger.

__

He couldn’t remember why that had been the final straw to tip him over the edge, but by the time he felt the cool handle of his gun it was too late. It was already pointed right between Connor’s startled eyes.

__

“Are you afraid to die, Connor?” he had asked, voice gravelly. He studied the android’s expression, watched it lick its lips and shift its eyes nervously for only a second, before focusing back on Hank.

__

“I would certainly find it regrettable to be…” the android paused and blinked. As it fixed Hank with a solid gaze, Hank began to feel his resolve weakening. What the hell was he doing? Why was this how he decided to test his theory on Connor? “... interrupted, before I can finish this investigation.”

__

“What’ll happen if I pull this trigger? Nothing? Oblivion? Android heaven?” he scoffed.

__

“I doubt there’s a heaven for androids.” Connor replied, quietly and without humour to counteract Hank. Behind the look of confidence the android normally carried, Hank could notice it looked almost concerned.

__

“Having existential doubts?” he chuckled darkly. “Sure you’re not going deviant too?”

__

At the mention of ‘deviant’, Connor had snapped back to normal, back straightening and eyes narrowing in annoyance. The darkness of confusion in Connor’s eyes was gone, replaced by anger. It pursed its lips and quipped back to Hank, “I self-test regularly, lieutenant. I know what I am and what I am not.”

__

Hank lowered his shaking hand, shoving the gun back in his holster. He had taken all of three seconds to stalk off away from Connor, muttering obscenities as he grabbed another beer from the bench. Their parting had not been pleasant, Connor irritatedly calling for him to come back, to which Hank remembered shooting back a “Fuck off!” and a suitable hand gesture as he wandered back into the city towards whichever bar he came across first.

__

In his drunken, furious state last night, Hank hadn’t thought he’d learned anything about Connor, even after everything. Connor had still insisted it wasn’t a deviant, had not outright expressed a fear of death, or even that it found value in the lives of androids as a whole.

__

But in the too-bright sunlight of the morning, lying on his couch with Sumo on his lap, waiting for the painkillers to kick in, he realised he learned more than enough from what _hadn’t_ been said, and came to a startling conclusion. He saw Connor as a human. As a young man. All the small, human things he had noticed over the past few days had already started to change his mind, but as he’d held the gun to the android’s head it had clicked. His eyes had held an innate fear in them, brow creasing slightly as he contemplated Hank’s questions. His small voice had shook slightly as he expressed how “regrettable” his death would be. Hank and Connor both knew that if the android died on the case he would have his memories plugged into a new body, but Connor almost seemed to fear the idea of it. Losing his current body and all the memories he had to associate it with. Connor was comfortable as himself and didn’t want to change, or lose what he had. Hank couldn’t have taken that away from him if he had wanted to, not after the android proved its own humanity to him.

__

As he pulled himself off the couch, his confused mind seemed just a little bit clearer for the first time in a long while, and he began to mentally prepare gruff apologies for the inevitably awkward meeting he was going have with Connor that morning.

__


End file.
